


Cheloid Love

by xRabbitx



Category: DOGS - Fandom
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-11
Updated: 2012-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-03 10:31:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xRabbitx/pseuds/xRabbitx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heine loves Badou (and I suck at summaries).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheloid Love

~

_One two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve..._

Heine never says too much. He only speaks when he feels he actually has something to say. The opposite can be said about Badou. Badou is always talking even when he's sleeping or passed out from alcohol or blood loss. The redhead motherfucker just never shuts the hell up.

It has taken him over five hours, but Heine is finally closing in on the finish line. It's sort of stupid, really, and Heine doesn't even remember why he started it. Badou is already sleeping like the overgrown baby he is, snoring and muttering in his sleep-- something about giant pandas taking over earth-- and Heine is sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at the figure twisted in the sheets. 

Badou sure as hell isn't the picture of conventional beauty. He's too skinny, his bones are too visible under his pale skin and he's wearing that stupid fucking eye-patch all the time. His hair isn't that really pretty kind of dark red hair colour you see on TV and in the magazines, but a sort of yellow-ish orange. Heine wonders if Badou's hair has always had that colour or if it's because of the constant cloud of cigarette smoke that's always hanging around Badou's head.

Nah, Badou sure as hell isn't the perfect picture of pretty. But then again, Heine has never been too crazy about perfect. It might just be the fact that Heine's eyes are getting steadily worse as the years go by, but when Heine looks at Badou, he sees a beauty that only a fucked up faggot like Heine would recognise. It's sick and twisted, just like Badou himself, and Heine is a sucker for it. It's in the way Badou always goes into a coughing fit every time he laughs-- like a hyena that swallowed an ashtray-- it's in the way Badou spits blood on the concrete and rasps that this is the last fucking job he's ever doing with Heine. It's in the way Badou's fingers tremble as he reaches for the first cigarette of the day-- about three seconds after he's woken up-- and in the way Badou's entire body seems to melt into itself as the nicotine mixes seeps through his veins. It's in the way Badou throws a knocked out tooth after Heine and in the sound it makes when Badou reloads his guns. Click, click.

_...thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one..._

“Mm'what the fuck're you doin'?”

“Go back to sleep, asshole,” Heine mutters and watches as Badou does just that.

The moonlight is falling across the bed through the window. It makes Badou look disturbingly pale and Heine like a fucking ghost. It makes every little scar on Badou's body light up in dark purple; it makes Heine's job easier.

_...twenty-two twenty-three twenty-four twenty-five twenty-sex twenty-seven twenty-eight twenty-nine thirty thirty-one thirty-two thirty-three..._

It's not difficult to get lost in what he's doing. He can't remember when Badou started having this effect on him, but Heine swears he could spend the rest of his life studying Badou's body and never grow bored with it. 

He loses count and has to start over again...

_One two three four five six..._

Sometimes Heine thinks Badou's skin looks like one of those modern paintings that looks like a three-year old threw up on it. It's a mess of dark lines criss-crossing over a pale canvas stretched out over a much too large frame. Sometimes Heine thinks he can see pictures in the lines...

_\- Holy fuck, call the Vatican. I just saw the Virgin Mary on your ass._

_\- Fuck you, dicktard. Go play on the fucking highway._

...but mostly he just says he does to annoy Badou. Annoying Badou is Heine's favourite thing to do next to making him come so hard he starts crying-- yeah, Heine has actually done that on several occasions. Oh, and kissing. Heine fucking loves making out with Badou. Badou tastes like smoke and blood and beer and drugs and come. Nothing gets Heine hotter than kissing Badou, sucking on his lips and teasing his tongue until Badou is a shivering, whimpering mess in Heine's arms and Heine is so fucking horny he swears he can feel his heartbeat in his dick.

Fucking Badou... 

To be honest, Heine isn't that surprised that it ended up being Badou. Mostly, it's because Heine's social circle isn't exactly big-- Badou, Nill and Bishop. Wow, that's three whole people! Badou says Heine's social life is like a god damned Kinder Egg. Heine says Badou's an idiot.

_twenty-six twenty-seven twenty-eight twenty-nine thirty thirty-one..._

Sometimes, Heine wishes that he and Badou could switch bodies so that Badou wouldn't have to carry all those scars around even if most of them are his own god damned fault because he can't keep his fucking mouth shut. Still, Heine can see that every single scar weighs on Badou, and he wonders if the pressure will ever break Badou's bones and force him to his skinny knees.

There's not much Heine wouldn't do for Badou. He never says as much, but he is sure Badou knows it somehow. He would crawl on his hands and knees through layers of blood and guts and brain snot for Badou. Fuck yeah, he'd die for Badou.

“Did you hear that, you silly little bitch?” Heine whispers, his fingers pausing over a long thin scar on Badou's shoulder, and he leans down to brush his lips on Badou's warm cheek. “I'd do it all for you.”

_fifty-six fifty-seven fifty-eight fifty-nine sixty sixty-one sixty-two sixty-three sixty-four..._

When the sun begins to rise, Heine gives up. Counting Badou's scars is a bigger challenge that trying to train a cockroach to sing opera. Besides, Badou is waking up and looking so god damn gorgeous that Heine can't do anything but crawl under the covers and curl up next to him.

~

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own none of this.


End file.
